Better Left Unsaid
by russianwinter013
Summary: Starscream is the leader of the Decepticons while Megatron is in a catatonic state. He summons two Decepticons, Deathstrike and Breakdown. Starscream becomes wary of the new additions, mainly Deathstrike. He is feral and mysterious, and has many dangerous secrets. There's something better off not knowing, something...better left unsaid.
1. Chapter 1

"Lord Starscream, the mission was a failure," the Vehicon Commander informed the heeled Deceptivon. "The Autobots raided the mine and retrieved the Energon before my pick-up arrived."

"Must I do everything myself?" Starscream growled, his wings rising. "I'm surrounded by fools!"

"It was not my intention to-"

"Just leave!"

As the Vehicon Commander left, Soundwave approached on silent pedes.

"Ah, Soundwave, what is it you need to tell me?"

"Tell," Soundwave played back in Starscream's voice. An image of a burning object crashing to Earth appeared on his featureless face.

"Can't you make it any clearer?"

The image vanished.

The Seeker vented heavily. "Do you have Laserbeak tracking it?"

Feed from the Mini-Con appeared on his face. It was a trail following a crater where the object had landed.

"Investigate and report, then," Starscream ordered. "Take the troopers with you. If it is an Autobot...well, you know what to do."

Soundwave turned away and left.

* * *

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" A massive Cybertronian paced the length of the ship, servos linked behind his back. "An unannounced visit doesn't cheer the big guy up at all."

"Quit worrying." A smaller Cybertronian steered the ship through a sea of asteroids. "We owe him and what be better than to return?"

"It would still be better is it was announced," the other muttered. "Can they even trace our signal so we can notify them?"

"No. There have been rumors of a group of Autobots that will attack if we are detected."

"Since when are you scared of Autobots?"

The driver growled. "I am not 'afraid', as you call it. I do not want damage to my ship."

"Your ship has been through hundreds of battles. A group of Autobots compared to it are nothing but a bunch of gnats."

The driver turned. His optics blazed in the dim light. "Exactly."

An alarm sounded and the ship rocked precariously. The massive one stumbled, using a chair for support though he still ended up on the floor.

"What's going on?!"

"We've entered this planet's atmosphere. Once we land, they should be able to detect us."

"Should?"

"You do not trust me?"

"For anyone you meet, it's better not to trust you than to do so."

"Touche." 

"Optimus, there is something you should see."

The Prime approached as Ratchet brought up an image.

"This is as clear I can get it. Humans have horrible satellite imagery," the medic said with a scowl as the hazy image focused. "It seems to be a ship, but its affiliation is difficult to make out."

"We will investigate," the Prime replied. He faced the waiting Autobots-Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee. "Transform and roll out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! So here's Chapter 2 of _Better Left Unsaid. _**

**_I STRONGLY SUGGEST READING DEATHSTRIKE'S BIO ON MY PROFILE PAGE BEFORE READING THIS!_**

**Warnings: Characters may seem OC.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Deathstrike, Blackstand, and my ideas.**

**Anyways...enjoy!**

* * *

"Can't you make the landing any smoother?"

"Breakdown, I swear if you bother me one more time," the mech at the wheel growled. "This would be going a lot better if I was not the only one driving."

"You told me not to touch the controls!"

"I am revoking that order for now. Quit complaining and get over here."

"Fine, no reason to bite my head off."

"Keep talking and it will be more than a suggestion."

As Breakdown seated himself, the ship rocked again. The driver adjusted the internal coolers, turning to stare at the other mech.

"What?" Breakdown glanced at him after a few moments of tense silence.

The mech said nothing, his gaze not straying.

"Deathstrike, why are you staring at me?"

Silence was his answer.

"We have to steer this ship correctly—unless you want to be scrap metal—so _tell me why you're staring at me_."

Deathstrike stirred, turning back to the controls. His digits executed an unidentifiable rhythm on the dashboard. Breakdown could not notice the mech's claws, weapons that had done a number of things that couldn't have ended in a mech's well-being.

"And now you are staring." His deep voice startled him.

"What?"

"I was staring, then you were staring at him. Care to explain why?"

"I wasn't—"

"—yes, you were." Despite the danger occurring outside, Deathstrike was now, once again, staring, which was rather unsettling with his emotionless composure.

"I don't want to—"

"—talk about this? I did not wish to speak about my reason and now you do not wish to."

"Can we focus on not being burned alive?!"

Breakdown expected turn to become irritated, but he was answered by a low laugh. The mech had turned away and focused on the control of their landing.

He vented.

It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

"Lord Starscream, we have arrived at the crash site," Blackstand, one of the higher-ranked Air Force Vehicons, informed.

"_Soundwave is the one to report_!" the Decepticon spat.

The said Decepticon remained silent as he searched the area, helm slightly tilted.

"_Have you located the ship yet_?"

"No, my liege. We will continue searching."

"_Do not waste valuable Energon. If you find nothing but corpses, burn them_."

"Very well."

* * *

Breakdown woke with a splitting processor ache. As his optics readjusted, he checked his external and internal status. Nothing was broken, though his body would be sore for a while. A few minor cables in the back of his neck were sprained, but nothing else was damaged.

"Deathstrike." His voice came out in a hoarse tone. No one replied.

"Deathstrike." He repeated the name with more strength, forcing himself up with a groan as his joints realigned. He was surprised when he saw no one in the driver's seat.

"There is no point in staring at an inanimate object like that." A deep voice came from somewhere in the ship. "If I am not there, I am not there. No sense in occupying your mind with such a useless task." Breakdown looked up and stared.

Deathstrike was hanging from the ceiling, legs wrapped around a beam that fell from the ceiling during the crash. His servos were elbow deep in a massive crack in the foundation, and Breakdown could see the injuries he had acquired. Gashes outlined his frame, Energon leaking from them and dripping to the floor. One major cut ran along his servo and wrapped around to the small of his backstrut; Breakdown noticed this whenever he pulled and his servo from the tangle of wires he was fixing. Sparks shot from them, landing in his wounds and visibly heating the mech's blood. Breakdown was surprised that he did not flinch, and that he could balance so, even with his wings.

"What are you doing up there?"

"Repairs, what does it look like?"

"How can you work with those injuries? You need a medic!"

"What injuries?"

Breakdown glared, and at the mech's silence, Deathstrike looked down, taking in the other's expression with a look of boredom. After a moment, realization flashed in his optics.

"You mean _these_?" Deathstrike pointed to the gashes on his frame. "I had not noticed."

"You don't notice your own injuries but you rush to fix your ship's?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Where did we crash?"

"I do not care where we landed." The mech twisted in a bizarre, snakelike way, optics flashing as he stared at something through the window. "What I do care about are the glitch-heads scratching my ship." He twisted again and was now on his pedes, heading towards the window to glare out of it.

"What do you—?" Breakdown cut off as he looked outside.

A group of Vehicons milled around the ship, blasters charged as they looked around. The head of the group was a tall black and purple 'Con with huge, thin, and blade-like arms.

"Is that who I think it is?" Breakdown demanded.

"Yes." Deathstrike was behind him; he had moved in that strange, silent way. A trail of Energon shadowed the black mech.

"What is he doing on Earth?"

"He followed Megatron."

"He nearly killed him. Why would Megatron want to be stuck with him for centuries?"

"Not my problem." Deathstrike growled suddenly, leaning against the door as his vents hitched.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." The mech shoved him away, but his hand stayed on Breakdown's servo, as if he were steadying himself.

"Deathstrike, they can help us. You need a medic."

"No, I do not. I am a trained medic, and I will see to myself after I do so to my ship."

"No, you won't. I'll make you fix yourself."

"Good luck with that."

"You are such a glitch-head," Breakdown muttered. When the mech didn't reply, he asked, "Remind me why we're sitting here?"

"We're not 'sitting here'."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're—see?" Deathstrike nodded at the window.

Breakdown turned to see the tall Decepticon looking straight at him. What surprised him was that he had no face, just a black screen with no features. A chill traveled its way down his spine as he made a mental note to challenge the mech before him.

"Quit gawking." Deathstrike pushed past him and entered a code into the keypad. The door hissed open, meaning as its hinges bent at the strain.

The black and purple mech continued to watch them as they stepped out into the clearing. The troopers surrounding him turned; at the sight of them they raised their blaster, preparing to fire.

"Easy there," Deathstrike reassured them, his wings high and immobile.

"We're on your side," Breakdown added, raising his servos.

The mech tilted his helm slightly, but it was unclear what emotions were going through his processor.

"Who would you be?" Deathstrike addressed the mech with an air he normally reserved for his victims. Breakdown silently hoped he wasn't planning it.

The mech remained silent as a whirring filled the area. A bird-like Mini-Con flew down, rearranging its body as it connected to the silent mech. He turned away, a Ground Bridge appearing in front of him.

"Did he just…?" Breakdown narrowed his optics.

Deathstrike growled, warning his companion not to continue. As the Vehicons filed through the portal, the silent mech faced them, seeming to stare. After a moment of silence, the Decepticon pointed to the Bridge.

"You want to come with you?" Breakdown said.

The mech nodded once, slowly and surely.

"Megatron won't be pleased," Breakdown continued. "Are you sure?"

The mech turned away and entered the portal.

"Strange…," Breakdown said, facing his companion.

Deathstrike snarled, narrowing his gaze as his optics blazed. Breakdown recognized the feral hunger in his stare.

"Deathstrike, don't do what I think you're going to do," he hissed, grabbing his servo. The Decepticon jerked away, glaring at the Cybertronian with a hint of insanity.

"I know you haven't…you know…in a while," he continued, "But you can't—at least, not yet. Let's wait until we get settled, and then you can later."

Deathstrike stared at him, the red in his optics blazing. After a moment of silence he nodded. "Do not expect promises."

Breakdown vented as he entered the portal. He'd have to keep an optic on him.

* * *

The _Nemesis _was huge, bigger than remember. Servant, Air Force, and Ground Force Vehicons crowded the area, running around like Scraplets to get their leader's orders fulfilled and to escape his wrath.

"_Follow_." The faceless mech spoke in a robotic voice that was out of place with his intimidating composure. Breakdown glanced at Deathstrike, who was standing with narrow optics. Breakdown could tell by the icy look on his faceplate that Deathstrike was already mapping his attack.

"Deathstrike," he muttered. "You don't want to be restrained."

"Try and you will be first," the mech growled, following the faceless mech with Breakdown trailing after him.

Their guide stopped at a door, seeming to freeze in place. The two glanced at each other after a minute of silent waiting. Breakdown was the one who spoke.

"Are you—?"

The mech straightened, as if coming to attention, and the door whipped open. He entered, glancing over his shoulder and expecting them to follow.

"The big guy has his own private quarters?" Breakdown paused. Deathstrike froze outside, glaring inside at something. Breakdown saw the fury blazing in his optics. "Deathstrike, what is it?"

Deathstrike growled, dentia bared in a scowl. Breakdown pushed past him.

Starscream stood at the head of the room, ordering every Vehicon around while monitoring their every move with his deep red stare.

"_Tell_." The faceless mech spoke, startling the Seeker.

"Soundwave, you know not to—" As he whipped around, he froze. His gaze was fixed on Deathstrike and Breakdown.

"What are you doing here?" His optics widened at the sight of the two.

"_Decepticons_," Soundwave played in Starscream's voice.

"Never mind that!" the Seeker snapped. He pointed his finger at Deathstrike; it was shaking in fear. "What are you doing here?"

Deathstrike said nothing, grinning sadistically.

Starscream growled, though his wings lowered.

"Where is our liege? Breakdown and I have matters to discuss with him."

"_I _am leader of the Decepticons now," Starscream snapped. His pride gradually returned and his wings rose.

Deathstrike stared through narrowed optics. "_You_?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Breakdown added, crossing his massive servos.

"Why is this so hard for everyone to accept?" the Seeker growled. "Megatron's spark has been extinguished—it is no more. He is gone."

"Well the, Commander Starscream," Deathstrike said, leaning against a nearby wall. "I suggest you tell us what happened."

* * *

**As I warned you earlier, the characters may seem OC. I didn't want Breakdown to be a brute (but yes, he'll still kill it on the battlefield). I guess you can say this story shows his "nicer" side...if you can call it that. *rubs hands together and grins evilly***


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! More BLU! (haha, blu...blue). **

**Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Transformers (unfortunately)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"How long has our liege been like this?" Deathstrike circled the comatose warlord.

"A week or two," the Seeker responded.

Deathstrike whipped around, optics blazing. "And you are just now calling me because…?"

"There were more important matters."

"More important than the well-being of our leader?" Deathstrike's optics began to glow brighter.

"That isn't the point!" Starscream growled. "We are here to see how he is doing, so how is he doing? Soundwave is to document this for further referencing."

"His body is suffering from a multitude of internal and external injuries. Despite this, there is still evidence of brain wave activity. He is, to put it, alive inside."

Starscream looked to Soundwave, who merely turned and left.

Or rather, he left _Starscream_ with _Deathstrike_.

"What are you really doing here?"

Deathstrike continued his work. "What ever do you mean?"

"You did not return just for our lordship. What is it that you want?"

The other turned, his black and red gaze burning a hole into the Seeker's core. "It would be your concern how?"

The Seeker's deep red gaze burned as he crossed his servos. "Don't play stupid, Deathstrike. I know you. Anyone who does recognizes the fact that you don't care for anyone." He approached the medic, wings raised high. "So tell me, dear doctor, what are you really doing here?"

Deathstrike completely faced the newly appointed Decepticon leader. His optics were narrow and blazing, the look on his faceplate dangerous and feral. He said nothing as he advanced on his superior, who backed away, wings dropping. The medic had been like this before, centuries ago…

_Starscream strolled down the walkway, deep in thought over the recent events that had occurred. A roar echoed throughout the complex, startling him. Lord Megatron was enraged._

_The Autobots had attacked Tyger Pax, their current refuge, barely a breem ago; not even a full orn. They had been desperate for news, for Energon, for anything._

_Starscream smirked._

_They had given it their all, but it hadn't been enough._

_He paused near a door. Shouts of desperation and incitement came behind._

_The interrogation had begun._

_Soundwave had recently captured the Autobot scout Bumblebee, after finding him sneaking through the drain pipes in a futile escape attempt. Their fight was brief, as the scout was no match for the master spy and warrior. Soundwave had nearly killed him, and would have done so, if Starscream had not stopped him. The spy was terrifyingly ruthless and violent, traits that were only enhance by his Vow, as well as other things. _

_ "__We need him," Starscream had insisted. "Lord Megatron will want him for questioning. You can have him after."_

_The spy tilted his helm at the Air Commander. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, as his featureless face and noiseless movements revealed nothing. After a moment of silence—hoping, in Starscream's case, that the spy would not turn and attack him instead of their unconscious foe—Soundwave nodded._

_Coming from his thoughts, the lieutenant entered the room, his auditory receptors harassed by the screams of the tortured, the dying-all results of Soundwave's telepathic abilities and Megatron's rage, all a constant reminder of the power of the Decepticons._

_The Autobot was strapped to a berth that had been moved to the center of the room. He was venting heavily, Energon covering his black and yellow frame. Next to him was Deathstrike, their medic and assassin, servos crossed and a black, venomous look on his faceplate. His right servo was transformed into its circular buzzsaw, Energon covering its lethal teeth. Starscream realized that it had been the doctor who had injured the Autobot, not Megatron. He could see the feral hunger and insanity hidden deep in the assassin's gaze and knew _**it **_was barely restrained._

_ "__Starscream, how good of you to join us." Megatron's deep, gravelly voice sounded from the shadows. "Let us begin." Moving forward with long, menacing strides, the Decepticon leader grasped the Autobot's throat, tearing him from the restraints and raising him high. The scout hissed in pain as his injured chassis was moved, hands scrabbling at the enormous servos that held him. _

_ "__Let me go, you—"He cut off as the warlord's grip tightened, claws drawing Energon from the conduits on the scout's throat._

_ "__You would be wise to watch your tongue, Autobot," the Decepticon leader growled. "I am not in the mood and am still deciding how useful you are to our cause."_

_ "__You're slagging crazy if you think that I would ever help you!" the Autobot gasped, Energon running down his throat._

_ "__Oh, but you will, dear Bumblebee." Megatron laughed; it was a dark, rumbling sound that would always send terror down Starscream's spinal component._

_Bringing Bumblebee close to his faceplate, with his fang-like teeth bared, Megatron growled,_

_ "__Where are the Autobots?"_

_The scout's optics widened, and a harsh bark escaped his vocalizer, a sound similar to a mocking laugh. "Like I'd…ever tell…you." His vocalizer gurgled with the Energon rising in it._

_Megatron growled and threw the prisoner to the floor._

_ "__Take him outside," he ordered a squadron. "All will see what happens when I am disobeyed." He left, followed by Soundwave, leaving Starscream with Deathstrike._

_ "__You should be more careful around the others," he told the medic. "You could have snapped."_

_Deathstrike vented harshly. "I know what I am doing. I have it under control."_

_ "__No, you do not. You cannot simply waltz in here looking ready to offline the nearest drone."_

_ "__Theirs is bland," the assassin remarked, "But I cannot attack a regular." A mad glint sparked in his optics, and a realization hit the lieutenant._

_ "__You have already done do," he stated, optics wide._

_A low rumbling noise came from the Decepticon, his black and red optics burning. "I may or may have not." He faced the Air Commander. "You tell me." _

_Venting in irritation, Starscream scrolled through his mental archives of who Deathstrike despised—which was nearly everyone._

_ "__Skyquake," he said eventually. "You attacked Skyquake."_

_Deathstrike snarled, a sound fit for a being like him. "The big lug cannot watch where he is going or what he does."_

_ "__That is not a good reason."_

_ "__I did not say it was or was not."_

_Ignoring that statement, he vented. "Where is he know?"_

_ "__Air patrol , where else?"_

_ "__That is not what I mean." He crossed his servos._

_Deathstrike faced him, an annoyed look on his faceplate. At that moment, the door opened. Blackgarnet, the mysterious tactician, weapons specialist, and spy second in rank to Soundwave appeared._

_ "__Lord Megatron grows impatient," the black and red Decepticon stated. " He wish to know what is taking so long."_

_ "__I am of higher authority than you," Starscream growled at the warrior. "You will respect me."_

_Blackgarnet scowled. "Do not play rank, Starscream. We are both warriors."_

_ "__I am second in command!" the heeled lieutenant roared. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Deathstrike stiffen, optics flickering from light to dark, light-dark. The look that symbolized something…_

_Something… _

_ …__That look. _

_Look…_

An excruciating pain tore through the lieutenant, tearing him from his reverie. As his optics readjusted, he took in his surroundings, one above him catching his attention the most.

Deathstrike stood glaring down at him, optics blazing and Energon staff in servo. In the background, Breakdown stood at a computer, monitoring whatever was on its screen.

"What do you think you are doing? You cannot attack you commanding officer!" Starscream shouted, leaping to his stabilizing servos. "What am I doing here? Why was I on the floor?"

"Pass out on my floor again and you will _become_ the floor!" Deathstrike growled, his wings raised.

"We're in the medical bay! This is not 'your floor'!"

"No, we are not. We are in my lab." He motioned around them at the room they were in. they _were_ in his lab.

"How did I get here?"

"Breakdown and I were already here," the medic said, motioning to his assistant. "Blackstand found you in a forced stasis in the meeting room, so he brought you here so I could check and make sure nothing is wrong." Deathstrike's optics narrowed. "Unfortunately, there is no life-threatening illness you have contracted. You are perfectly fine."

Starscream stared at the medic. There was something off about the way he held himself, as if he were exhausted beyond reason, but enraged at the fact that he had been bothered by something that hadn't been on significance to him. Proof of this was the fire in his optics, the smoldering inferno that contained his many secrets.

"If you are finished staring into oblivion, sir," a voice said, bringing him back to the present. "You can leave." It was Breakdown.

"I can stay as long as I desire," the Decepticon stated, crossing his servos and raising his wings.

Breakdown shook his helm. "Not today, you can't. Deathstrike needs rest."

"Oh? And what would be the cause of this?"

Breakdown's yellow optics hardened. "You know as well as I what the reason is.

Realization flashed in Starscream's processor, a smug look covering his faceplate despite his contained fear. "Confine him. Do not let him escape." He turned and left.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Breakdown called after the retreating officer. "You glitch."

* * *

He vented, in and out, slowly. It was attempting to resurface, and no matter how hard he fought, despite external appearances it would do so eventually.

_Focus. Control. Do not let it overwhelm. Do not let it break free. Risks are not an option._

Though he released it at times, at the moment, the energy needed for such a task was something he did not have.

_Focus. Control. Do not let it overwhelm. Do not let it—_

Pain tore its toxic path through him, and he inhaled sharply, claws digging into his armor.

**_Focus. Control._**

**_Control._**

The pain continued, and he forced himself to his pedes, steadying himself with a hand on the wall. Acid fire burned through his veins, tremors shaking his chassis, claws scoring the wall.

_Set me free._

_Destroy. _

_Set._

_Me. _

_Free._

* * *

**Ooh, cliffhanger! Sorry if this was boring or anything (if it was, I promise it will get better). Read and review, pleaze!**


	4. Chapter 4

Breakdown strolled through the hall, weaving his way through the Vehicons. He had taken a break from the lab, attempting to relax and tell himself nothing was wrong.

But yet, he knew something was. With Deathstrike.

The assassin was acting stranger than usual. He was weak, that Breakdown knew, as a result of his injuries acquired from the crash, but there was—

Come to think of it—where was Deathstrike's ship? He strongly hoped no one had taken it or destroyed it without Deathstrike's approval, despite it being heavily damaged from the crash. Breakdown knew Deathstrike would go berserker insane if anyone so much as touched his ship without his permission.

"You." He addressed an Eradicon with huge wings. "What do you know of my partner's ship?"

The Eradicon turned, taking in the warrior before him. "Your partner is Deathstrike, correct?" His voice was deep and emotionless. Many of them were programmed that way.

"Yes."

"Time of arrival and crash?" He turned to a computer console before him.

"A few orns ago, when there was a high temperature in the area."

"We are currently above Colorado of the United States, North America." He began to type at an incredible speed that could rival Soundwave's. "Your crash site was above Jasper, Nevada, in a rocky desert area with little to no population." He paused, reorganizing the information in his processor. "Your ship is in the docking bay, guarded by Air Force Eradicons B-03 and 6-09." He faced the warrior.

Breakdown nodded in acknowledgment. "What is your designation?"

"My designation is Longscar." True to his name, black scars scored the Vehicon's faceplate, as well as his servos, neck, and chest.

"How long have you been working here?"

"Very long, sir. Long before you arrived." Longscar's voice became colder. This was not a topic he favored.

_Well, then. _"Your assistance is appreciated."

The Eradicon nodded and continued working.

* * *

"Deathstrike, I know where your ship is," Breakdown stated as he entered the lab.

No one answered.

It was strangely quiet, even for Deathstrike.

"Deathstrike?" He slowed his pace, turning his scanners on high. Deathstrike's signal was enhanced in a bizarre way, and it had been so for centuries. He had modified Breakdown's scanners should anything happen—and idea he had laughed at, but _now_…

"Deathstrike!" His scanner couldn't pick up the assassin's signal. Where was he?

Wait.

He was exhausted and ravenous, but did not want to let it out. Where would he go?

Meditation.

He ran to the room in the back of the lab, the room where the assassin went to restrain himself when he did not have the needed energy.

The large black door towered before him. Should he knock? He was concerned for Deathstrike's health, but whenever he locked himself up, it was all too obvious he desired to be alone.

"Deathstrike?"

There was no answer.

Breakdown leaned against the door, scanners on so high he could already feel a massive processor ache coming on. He knew Deathstrike was in here. Whenever he'd bothered the assassin on the ship, he'd had to be cautious, as he would most likely get hit with whatever Deathstrike had available, which included the floor itself.

Gathering his strength and courage, Breakdown entered and open command.

* * *

Starscream stood at the head of the room, Soundwave at his side. He was a little unnerved. At least when he had been Megatron's shadow, there had been something to feel. Next to Soundwave, there was nothing, nothing at all. The SIC never showed emotion. Maybe it would be better how to determine how he felt if he could see him, see how he looks.

_Looks…_

_How—_

_Starscream recognized the look in Deathstrike's gaze. The wild, violent hunger and insanity…_

_It had been released. There was no stopping it now._

_Blackgarnet noticed the lieutenant shift nervously. "What is the trouble now?"_

_ "__Do you not hear it?" Starscream tilted his helm. "Did you not receive the distress comm?" Out of the corner of his optic, he saw Deathstrike's servos unfold, claws lengthening to razor points rivaling Megatron's._

_Hurry, his mind urged. Time is not in your favor._

_ "__They must have excluded you again," he stated. "There has been an explosion in the Energon stores. You are needed." He ushered the warrior out of the lab, ignoring the nagging sensation that the weapons specialist would kill him later._

Breakdown, _he comm-ed. _You are needed.

What do you need? _The warrior stated, sounding otherwise engaged._

Deathstrike.

Primus, did he get loose again? Lord Megatron will have my head.

No, he has not, but he is on the verge of doing so.

Alright, Commander, I'm nearly there. _The line disabled. _

_He faced the assassin, who met his gaze, his black and red optics an inferno straight from the Pit. Claws extended, he stared at the lieutenant, taking in his every move with the alertness of a predator. The medic Decepticon was gone, leaving a feral, ravenous Decepticon who would, if freed, destroy any Cybertronian in his way._

_ "__Commander." Breakdown appeared in the doorway, his yellow gaze blazing in the dim light. "Where is he?"_

_ "__Still here. Don't just stand there, get in here!"_

_Breakdown smirked and entered. He froze when he saw Deathstrike, his grin disappearing. "He's never been this bad before. What did you do?"_

_ "__I did nothing."_

_Breakdown faced him, his pupil-less optics burning. "Commander, I mean no disrespect, but I know when I am being lied to."_

_ "__You accuse me of lying? How dare you!"_

_ "__No disrespect, Commander." Breakdown slowly approached the assassin, who snarled, optics narrowing._

_ "__Easy there." Breakdown kept his servos raised as his subspace opened. He slowly reached in, taking out a vial of a dark substance. "Deathstrike, I know you're still in there. Fight it. You control it, not the other way around." He approached cautiously, and it seemed to be going well enough for the lieutenant to leave, lingering nonchalantly in the hall, weapons ready should anything happen._

_A shout sounded, followed by snarling and crashing._

_What in Primus' name?_

_Back in the lab, Breakdown was glaring, one servo over a massive slash in his side. Energon poured from the wound. The massive Decepticon's chest armor was shredded, Energon covering it like a new paintjob. Nearby, Deathstrike was on the floor, motionless and seemingly unconscious. _

_ "__What in Primus' name happened?!" the lieutenant roared, wings flaring high._

_Breakdown coughed harshly, pressing his servos hard into their covered wounds, attempting to staunch the Energon flow. "He anticipated my moves. Full-out attacked."_

_ "__Did he…?"_

_ "__No. Gave him…sedative before he could." Breakdown leaned against a wall, and Starscream saw how much energy had been taken from the warrior. _

_ "__How could I have been so stupid?"_

_The lieutenant started. "I'm—sorry?"_

_ "__It was a mistake, bringing him here. So many targets—so many victims—all able to be ended, in too little time. It'd be too little, too late."_

_Late…_

_Too late…_

"—Commander?"

He opened his optics. Before him stood Blackstand and Longscar. Soundwave stood nearby, half-blended into the shadows.

"Commander, are you alright?" Blackstand questioned.

Starscream hesitated ever so slightly, and Soundwave moved closer on silent pedes. His presence merely aggravated the Seeker, but he bit back a growl of irritation. It would only incense the spy's logic circuits.

"A processor ache, that is all." The fact was true; these blackouts made him feel as if Breakdown had smashed his helm in a couple of hundred times.

"Are you certain, sir?" Longscar said, staring intensely at his superior.

"Yes." The room lurched, but he kept himself steady. "I will head to my berth."

"Sir, the meeting—?"

"Soundwave can run it." The Seeker sensed their uneasiness, and he turned to glare at them, noticing that the spy had vanished. "I do not care for your legends. Listen to him and follow orders."

He turned and left, leaving two very confused soldiers.


	5. Chapter 5

The door opened slowly, groaning as its hinges creaked. Breakdown entered cautiously, alert for airborne objects attempting to behead.

None came.

The room was pitch black. The temperature of the air had dropped, according to his sensors. Despite the lack of movement and life, he still knew Deathstrike was here, somewhere.

Unless…

"Deathstrike?"

He sensed the slightest of movements, the smallest sound, so quiet it was if something had barely vented.

"Deathstrike."

The movement happened again as he moved slowly around the room, sensors on high alert. A tremor ran through him as he made his second round. Static made his sensors go haywire, increasing the hard pounding ache in his processor.

"Lights on."

The computer followed the command. A growl sounded, deep and feral. Deathstrike was there, crouched in a corner, hands on the sides of his helm as if attempting to stop it from exploding. Breakdown saw the tremors shaking the assassin's chassis and knew it was worse—_far_ worse.

"Deathstrike."

He shook his helm, claws scraping against the metal. They were extended, razor sharp points that could gouge out a warrior's spark chamber, and his wings were equally sharp.

"Deathstrike, you know I can help." He took towards the other, servos out in a reassuring, calming gesture.

"No, you cannot." The Decepticon's voice was deeper than normal, hoarse and quiet.

"Stop denying, you glitch-headed hard-helm." Breakdown's voice hardened. "I have helped you for eons, ever since this started. The others survived, so can you."

"The others knew what to do and where to go."

"You did as well. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"I am not—" The assassin cut off abruptly, venting out harshly. His claws dug into the wall near him, tearing deep jagged marks. Breakdown noticed the other scars the assassin had inflicted on the defenseless wall. Worry took its hold on him. There wasn't much time.

"Forget what I said Deathstrike. Listen to my voice." He moved even closer to the other. "You can fight this; I know you can. You have before. What's stopping you now?"

Deathstrike shook his helm again, coughing as a violent shudder ran through his body. He said something unintelligible. His wings twitched violently, scraping against the wall.

"You know I can't hear you."

"The _scent_." The assassin looked up. His optics were blazing, as red as the incineration chambers in the Pit. "I cannot stand it, Breakdown. It hits me every day: the drones, their life, _everything_. It is overpowering. I—" He coughed again, dry and hacking, as he shuttered his gaze.

"I can taste it, Breakdown." He drew in a ragged vent. "I can taste their life, their _souls_." He shook his helm. "How do I know I will not attack? How do you know? I can barely restrain myself." As if solidifying his statement, his wings flared violently.

"You can restrain, Deathstrike. It was my mistake for letting you convince me it was acceptable to come here when it was not."

The Decepticon opened his optics to stare at the warrior. "What do you mean?"

Breakdown's yellow gaze burned. "You know very well what I mean."

Deathstrike continued to stare. Breakdown was going to demand what was wrong when he noticed the assassin's optics: they were flickering, light to dark.

_Scrap._

The assassin stood, fangs bared and claws extended. Breakdown dodged, narrowly missing a would-be-fatal attack from claws. Deathstrike snarled, fiery optics narrow and tracking his every move. Breakdown could tell by the black insanity in the other's gaze that it hadn't been let out in a long time—and it was starving.

"Deathstrike, fight this. You can, and I know you will." He kept talking as he ran an internal scan of his subspace contents. Blaster, stun-gun, manual for the ship…

No sedative.

This was going to be harder than expected.

But it would be easier if he brought in a few Vehicons and—

Something rammed into him. A razor sharp pain ran through his chest, dangerously close to his spark chamber. Deathstrike was glaring at him, optics narrow. The assassin's telepathic abilities—while nowhere near as strong as Soundwave's—were stronger than normal, enhanced only by fury,

Now was the time to panic.

He could no longer speak to Deathstrike to calm him down; he was too far gone. He didn't have time to make another batch of sedative. There was no way he could restrain Deathstrike that long, and the sedative had to be made with a special mix of enhanced Energon, one that took _too_ long for—

"What in Primus' name is going on?!"

It was Starscream.

**. . . **

"What is happening to cause such a ruckus?" the Seeker demanded. "I am attempting to recover from a massive processor ache and all I hear is—"He froze when he took in the scene before him. "What is going on?"

"_What_ are you doing here?" Breakdown growled. "_Get out_!"

"You do not command me!"

"I'm not—" He cut off as Deathstrike attacked again, tearing huge and deep slashes in his left servo. He gritted his dentia, trying to regain his bearings as he faced the Air Commander. "I'm not _trying_ to order you around; I'm trying to _save your life_!"

"Deathstrike cannot harm me." His wings rose to their normal haughty height.

"Starscream, I do not care for your ego right now! Unless you want to be terminated, I suggest that you leave now!"

The Seeker crossed his servos. "Are you threatening me, Breakdown?"

"_EVERYTHING ISN'T ALWAYS ABOUT YOU_!" he roared, making the other flinch and stare in surprise. Breakdown was venting heavily, fighting to stay conscious and to control his anger. His movements only opened his wounds wider, and the amount of Energon he'd lost only made him lightheaded, while his anger only increased it.

But _oh_—how Starscream was a fool.

Who in their right would investigate a strange noise coming from _Deathstrike's_ work lab? Everyone had heard of the stories and myths created by cowards—dissections, vivisections, torture, cloning? Even Deathstrike knew about them, and although he didn't do things like them, he gave the impression of doing so, just to—

Something slammed into him again, pinning him to the wall. It was Deathstrike, but physically. His claws dug into the cables of Breakdown's neck, drawing even more Energon. He gasped, shoving his servos against the assassin's chassis. The attack didn't move the other; it only made him angrier. Deathstrike snarled, his grip tightening and cutting off his opponent's ventilations as his wings fanned threateningly.

_Scrap. _Deathstrike was strong enough when he wasn't like this, but now he had enough strength to rip out the toughest warrior's spark chamber with a glance.

"Starscream," he hissed. "Leave. _Now_."

The Decepticon's wings twitched. "I—"

"I'm serious," he gasped, processor swimming. "_Get out_."

"You—"

"_For the last time, I am _**not**_ trying to order you around_!"

"I know that," Starscream spat, voice shaking despite the angry look on his faceplate. "What I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted was that I have more sedative."

"What?!" Breakdown winced as the assassin's claws tore more slashed into his protoform. He, if it hadn't been evident before the attack, completely lost it. He roared at Deathstrike, servo changing into his hammer, and brought it down on the other's helm.

"Why didn't you…say something…earlier?" Now that the threat was stopped, if only for a few moments, the effect of the battle finally took its toll on him. His adrenaline was wearing down, and he felt exhaustion and the _pain_ grip him.

Starscream noticed the warrior stumble, and he was suddenly next to him, steadying the other with the surprisingly iron grip. "I didn't wish for you to know. It was a secret I carried, and I had to leave the ship to make it." He scowled. "Soundwave sees and hears everything on this ship."

"So I've…heard." Breakdown drew in a ragged vent. "Where…?"

"Here." Starscream's subspace opened, and he took out a vial of the dark, murky substance.

"How—?"

"—did I make it?" At Breakdown's look of surprise, the Decepticon leader laughed. "You think I did not know of Deathstrike's condition? How he is alive yet not?" He vented heavily. "We were colleagues, centuries ago, before the incident. After that…everything changed."

Breakdown nodded, half-conscious. "Syringe…"

Starscream snapped to attention. "Yes, of course. Where is it?"

Breakdown said nothing, his subspace opening. Starscream took it out, filling it with the sedative. "Which site works best?"

The warrior pointed to the main conduit on the unconscious assassin's neck. "Watch for… the…fangs and…claws."

The Seeker nodded. "I know." He approached cautiously, wings twitching. Eventually, he emptied the syringe's contents, flinching whenever Deathstrike made the slightest of movements.

Breakdown gave a grunt of approval, sinking into a nearby chair. Starscream watched, his servo changing into its blaster, should anything happen.

"Will you need anything?"

The warrior huffed out a laugh, shaking his helm. "No, Commander. I am… fine."

"What of your injuries?"

"I am a medic. I will see to… myself."

"Very well, then." He turned and left.

**. . . **

"_Breakdown_."

He stirred, systems half charged. "Yes?"

"_Has Deathstrike recovered yet_?"

The warrior shifted from one pede to the other, checking his freshly welded scars. "He isn't here, Commander."

"_Why not? I did not give a release order_."

Breakdown vented. "He had to refuel somehow."

"_Mmm_." There was a pause. "_Call him back. You two are needed_."

"Might I ask where?"

"_There is something I must do. Your abilities are required._."

"Very well, Commander. I'll let him know."


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, here's chapter six. It's short, and I apologize for that. **

**A/N: I kind of like dissing Earth and humans, so be prepared. I really wish I wasn't human.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"What is the deal with this?"

"I told you before—"

"Yes, but I cannot remember with this processor ache," the assassin muttered. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Commander supplied the coordinates, and he knows this place better than we do."

Deathstrike snarled quietly. "It would still be better if _I_ drove."

"You're not well."

"I am _fine_, Breakdown, as I keep trying to tell you."

"You weren't a few days ago."

"Which was a few _days_ ago," Deathstrike interjected, the faint scowl that was normally on his faceplate appearing. He put a hand to his helm. "Honestly, did you have to hit me so hard?"

_Better than getting my spark torn out. _"It was the best defense I could think of at the time."

Deathstrike didn't answer, staring out of the window. Breakdown could tell by the look of indifference on his faceplate that the assassin and medic was lost in his thoughts. Whenever he did this, it was impossible to speak to him—and he despised being interrupted.

The only logical—and safe—thing for him to do was drive.

* * *

"We're nearly there."

Deathstrike said nothing, only nodding. What in Primus' name was he thinking about so intensely?

"_Dock your ship here. The life forms on this planet will not appreciate a gargantuan ship landing on their aircraft, and I am not in the mood to get their disgusting flesh on my pedes_," Starscream instructed.

"I wouldn't either," Breakdown muttered. "Deathstrike, we're to land here and go the rest of they way to meet Commander."

"Does he not want us to address him as _lord_ Starscream?"

"He appears to be fine with us calling him Commander when we're not near the troops. Besides, you'll never call him lord."

"I will not." The Decepticon stood slowly, cringing as his legs unlocked. "Come on."

* * *

The Seeker stood waiting, his wings raised. He turned as he heard the sound of footsteps. Breakdown was talking to Deathstrike as he helped him over the rocks; the assassin's displeasure at this was shown, despite his legs seeming to be weaker than before their crash landing. His wings were flared to help him balance.

"It could have taken you any longer."

"We apologize if we do not live up to your standards," Deathstrike hissed. He growled as Breakdown elbowed him, his optics flashing and wings at a threatening height.

"Don't mind him, Commander. He's been in a bad mood lately."

"I can see." Starscream faced them completely, his servos linked behind his back. "I need you to recover something for me."

"And this would be…?"

"The Energon Harvester." The former lieutenant's optics glowed at the name. He motioned to a stone wall facing them. An image was engraved into the slab.

"Apparently, the humans thought it was a 'gift from the gods'." Starscream scoffed, crossing his servos. "These disgusting little flesh and meat bags are horrifyingly unintelligent."

"Is it here?" Breakdown questioned.

The Seeker shook his helm. "No. They have taken it and put in on display as if it were a trophy."

"I bet their faces would change when they see it in action," Deathstrike growled. His optics blazed brightly and his wings fanned the air ever so slightly.

Starscream cast a glance at the assassin, seemingly perturbed by his mood. "The coordinates of your next location have been logged into your ship. Retrieve the relic by any means necessary."

* * *

"Deathstrike."

"Hmm?" The assassin remained motionless, scanners on high and searching the area. He did not need a handheld scanner like Breakdown, as he was able to detect objects without one.

"Are you…okay?"

The Decepticon froze, his back to the other. It was then that Breakdown remembered that the other was a Seeker, as well as an assassin and medic, and a remarkably well one at that. But unlike others, his wings did not express how he felt. They occasionally twitched, fell, and rose, but one could not merely guess Deathstrike's mood based on his _wings._

"Why?"

Breakdown felt a wave of anger wash over him. "What do you mean, 'why'? Have you forgotten the past few days?"

Deathstrike's engine rumbled threateningly. Breakdown, somewhere deep inside, now knew to tread lightly—the other's mood was darkening. But then, so was his.

"Don't take this the wrong way; I'm only concerned." His gaze inadvertently strayed to Deathstrike's weaker leg. It still refused to heal properly, and Breakdown did not understand why—unless it was as stubborn as its owner.

"My health is fine, if that is what ails you so." Deathstrike's wings fanned the air, and the movement chilled Breakdown to the core. It was a bad thing if his _wings_ were showing how he felt.

"You know that isn't what I mean." Massive servos crossed over a massive chest, and a scowl appeared on his faceplate.

Deathstrike whipped around so suddenly that it made the other nearly trip over his own pedes. "I know what you mean, Breakdown, I am no fool! Do you think," he continued, advancing slowly on the other, his movements dark and optics concealing inner turmoil, "That I do not _regret_ what I did? I could have killed you, and would have if you had not knocked me unconscious with your hammer." At Breakdown's look of semi-shock, a cold laugh came from the assassin. "Oh, you thought I would not remember that? I was not completely changed."

"I know that, but—"

"Quiet." Deathstrike raised a servo, immediately silencing the other. His helm turned and his optics were narrow and slightly glowing.

"What is it?" Breakdown's scanners picked up a faint signal, but it was unclear on what it was.

Deathstrike said nothing, freezing in place. A low growl rumbled deep in his chassis, and Breakdown knew what it meant—keep quiet and stay alert.

They came across a rocky clearing. Faint voices could be heard on adjusted audio receptors, and static scrambled the radio waves on their comm.'s, suggesting the use of a private radio frequency. Breakdown followed Deathstrike, whose footsteps were silent as his crunched slightly on the rocky, dusty ground. He kept his gaze fixed on the assassin, on the small sensory wings centered behind his larger ones. There was always something off about him, whether his hunger set in or he was in a bad mood. But now, he was even stranger. He—

Something large and hard ran into him. Or rather, _he_ ran into _it_.

"What—?"

A low growl sounded. Deathstrike glared over his shoulder panel, a scowl on his faceplate. His fangs were exposed. Scrap, he was in a bad mood. When he knew he had Breakdown's attention, he motioned to the clearing below them.

A large green mech stood there, his massive back towards them. A handheld scanner was in his grasp, and some small life-form was scrambling around his pedes, shouting something unintelligible in a high, shrill voice.

White-hot rage coursed through Breakdown's veins. _Bulkhead! _That fat, green idiot was _here_, on this backwater planet? But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the fury vanished, and a disturbing grin crossed his faceplate. He could _finally_ take his revenge. Oh, how he would love this! Beating his face in so hard nothing would be left except a bloody mess, twisting joints and limbs until the bones jutted out with a satisfying _crack_, hearing him scream as his armor dug painfully into his protoform as his hammer struck home again and again, the amusing sound of crunched infrastructure and armor, the entertaining screams of anguish and pain and terror as his own body buckled in on itself—yes, he would _love_ it! Yes, he could be the cruelest, though nowhere near as sadistic as—

"Quit staring." Deathstrike's low voice tore him from his gory thoughts. He was on his pedes, still staring at the massive mech. "I am picking up an Energon signal here. Collect what you find and meet me at the next set of coordinates." With that, the Decepticon turned and transformed, shooting away.

* * *

**You guys haven't complained about the Autobots in this, so I am assuming you are fine with their limited appearance? There will be more scenes with them, I promise.**

**Also, one of my reviewers said something about there not being any Knock Out in this. I figured it was _clear_ he wasn't in this, as I replaced him with Deathstrike. Don't you guys get me wrong; he is one of my favorite characters. His cowardice was amusing until a point, so...**

**My friends say Deathstrike is a softie because his wings are showing how he feels. Do any of you agree? PM or review with your answer.**

**Oh, and I just noticed an error. Earlier, when Deathstrike and Breakdown were on their ship, Deathstrike recalls Breadkown hitting him with his hammer, and then later during their argument Deathstrike acts as if Breakdown doesn't know he remembers. This is a mistake, and please ignore it. I guess you guys haven't noticed it (probably until I pointed it out) because you haven't said anything, so...**

**Read and review, pleaze!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7! Hope you like! Sorry for the long wait! **

* * *

Starscream stood on the docking bay of the _Nemesis,_ deep in his thoughts. He knew he should not provoke Deathstrike, as the assassin could hold grudges for eons and had a temper worse than Unicron's. He had been on the receiving end of his rage before, and it had not ended well.

"Lord Starscream." Blackstand and Longscar appeared behind him, seemingly out of nowhere. Primus, those brothers were unsettling even when they were _together._

"Yes, what is it?"

"Deathstrike is approaching," they informed.

As if on cue, the sound of a powerful engine reached them. A sleek, slightly-Cybertronian jet shot towards them. Deathstrike transformed, landing silently on his pedes. His optics were narrow and his claws clicked together menacingly, and his wings were raised and slightly flared. He was in a bad mood.

"Deathstrike." The Seeker in command crossed his servos. "What are you doing back?"

The other Seeker fixed his gaze on Starscream. "Breakdown is investigating an Energon signal we picked up. He will contact me if he unearths anything."

"That still does not explain your being here."

Deathstrike's optics narrowed. "Is my freedom restricted, Starscream, because I do not see the reason for me to be explaining my every action to you." At Starscream's look of black disapproval, the assassin moved closer to the other, looking down because of his greater height. "If you do not like my explanation, here is another: I am working on Megatron's injuries." He hissed, baring his fangs. "If that is fine with you." With that, he turned and left.

"A strange one," Blackstand began.

"He is," his brother finished.

"Why are you two out here? Do you not have work to do?"

"We finished," the two said in unison. They stared intently at the other, but not disrespectfully.

"Then help Soundwave monitor the communication channels for Decepticons light years away." His thoughts drifted.

"He will not need it—"

"—and is not a well worker with others."

Starscream snarled, turning on the two. "Find something to do to occupy yourselves and do not bother me again." His deep voice lowered even more, filled with enough anger to make the two mysterious brothers disappear.

* * *

Anger filled him.

No, not anger.

**_Rage._**

It was a poison that burned through his veins, enough to stir the beast from its thin slumber as he fumed. He paced the lab, gathering the required tools for repairing Megatron's external injuries. There were massive burns and cuts running over the frame of the warlord's body, and he had yet to begin working on them. Struggling to keep his vents even, he set to work, welding the shallow scrapes first; if he did not, they would get in the way of his repair to the larger ones.

The door to the med-bay opened, and his wings turned, picking up the movement and the signal of the visitor. It was Soundwave.

"What does Starscream want now?" the assassin growled, continuing his work with agile hands. The faceless mech only appeared when Starscream was too indolent to get up and do it himself.

The silent mech said nothing, instead approaching the other. His helm tilted slightly as he looked down at the other. His scanners stated that the medic's vitals were low.

Deathstrike vented. "I am fine, though I do not see how you would care."

Soundwave turned to Megatron. His question was evident.

"He has neither improved nor worsened," the other mech stated. "I am working on the smaller injuries now, but—" A tremor ran through his chassis, cutting off his sentence. The mute Communications Officer turned to see the medic keeled over, a clawed hand keeping him upright. He approached as he noticed the violent tremors racking the mech's body, not out of concern for the mech himself, but out of concern—however small it may be—for the medical division itself. Having an unhealthy medic was not a good thing.

Deathstrike sensed him coming and he straightened, snarling as his wings flared wide in an aggressive stance. Feral hunger flashed before recognition in his optics and he shook himself. Soundwave tilted his helm, defense warnings flashing in his HUD, warning him that danger was forthcoming. For him, or for the medic?

"It would be best if you were to leave now." The Decepticon's servos clenched into fists, his long claws slashing the sensitive metal. His voice was low, as if he were restraining a growl. "I have much work to do and have little time for distractions."

The former Kaon gladiator remained motionless, his curiosity and suspicion sparked. There were not that many coworkers that had the nerve to tell him to leave.

Deathstrike sensed this and fixed his gaze on him. His optics were dark, darker than he had ever seen them, and there was something hidden deep within them. His wings flared out, signaling his darkening mood. Soundwave turned away and headed for the door, deeming it illogical to include himself in an oncoming, petty dispute. But then, he was still _slightly_ curious.

He would keep his optic—so to say—on the medic. Something was not right.

* * *

**Okay, some author notes:**

**1.) For Deathstrike's jet alt-mode, he is a matte black Dassualt Rafale, with only slight hints of alien technology. Look up images of Dassault Rafales; they're _really_ cool! :)**

**2.) Longscar and Blackstand are spark-split twins, similar to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. You can read their bios on my profile to learn more about them.**

**3.) Yes, Soundwave is suspicious of Deathstrike. He will be watching him more closely now...no, he is not a stalker.**

**Sorry for how short this is! **

**PM/review with any concerns/questions/comments! I need ideas, people...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, here's Chapter 8! Sorry for the wait! (Hey, I rhymed...)**

* * *

Breakdown sped down the road, following another Energon signal he had picked up after his encounter with Bulkhead. He had not been able to terminate him as he had desired; it wasn't part of the plan, and there was no doubt that Starscream would yell at him for straying from it.

Primus, _how_ could someone have such a screechy voice? And why did he talk _so much_? Did he not know that his vocalizer sounded as if a sparkling had taken it and chewed on it? Did he _like_ the sound of his own voice? Surely it must have been hinted that others could not stand him.

Then again, the heeled Seeker did like to aggravate others.

His sensors alerted him of a nearby signal. Swerving off of the road, he followed it, coming to a stop near a museum. Pondering whether he should inform Deathstrike, he dialed his line.

_"What?"_ The Seeker's voice sounded, filled with irritation, but Breakdown couldn't help but notice the hoarse undertone.

"Deathstrike, I've found another signal. It's at the museum Commander told us about." He hesitated for a moment. "Are you okay?"

_"Truth be told, I am not so sure."_ The assassin let out a low growl, his powerful engine rumbling in accord. _"I am on my way. I need to get out of this sorry excuse for a functioning warship."_

* * *

Breakdown turned his side mirrors as his scanners picked up an approaching signal. A sleek black jet shot towards him, transforming in midair into Deathstrike. The medic's wings were raised and his optics were narrow. However, as soon as he landed on the cool pavement, his weak leg gave out, and he would have collapsed had Breakdown not steadied him.

"Deathstrike, you are _sure_ you are okay?" The massive Decepticon stared at the other in worry.

Deathstrike vented harshly, his wings twitching and batting against the other's servo. "I am fine, Breakdown. I have not refueled or recharged for some time."

Breakdown scowled. It was most likely Starscream's fault. His engine rumbled. When he got his servos around that scrawny Seeker's neck...

"I can handle this, Deathstrike. You need to rest," he assured the assassin.

Deathstrike snarled, his armor flaring slightly, or as much as it would allow with his companion holding him up. "I am going nowhere, Breakdown. You know as well as I that my condition does not show on the battlefield."

"It will if you pass out or get injured," the other snapped. "The Autobots won't give you a chance when they see your weak leg."

Deathstrike let out a low rumble, attempting to break free from his supporter's strong grasp. "Breakdown, I am able to fight, no matter my current condition." As if solidifying his statement, the Decepticon shuddered and went into a violent bout of coughing.

"Deathstrike..."

"_Enough_." The assassin flared his wings, purposely hitting Breakdown. "I am staying, and that is final."

Breakdown vented in irritation. "You can be such a glitch sometimes."

The other smirked slightly. "Yes, I know. You can be one, too." He shifted, standing hesitantly with his weight on his uninjured leg. "Come. We must be going."

* * *

"Optimus, an Energon signal has been detected," Ratchet stated. "In a human facility."

The image appeared on the computer screen. Raf, who had been sitting on his laptop, looked up. "That's in the local museum. But what is it?"

"It is emanating from this artifact." The medic showed an image of an immense marble Greek statue. A large golden orb was in the outstretched hand.

"That matches the picture on the slab," Bulkhead confirmed. "It's the Harvester."

At the kids' confused looks, Ratchet explained, "The Energon Harvester absorbs Energon from anything, be it living or inanimate. It would be useful in certain situations, but in the hands of the Decepticons..."

"Starscream would no doubt use it for his own personal gains. We must retrieve it before he does," Optimus rumbled gravely.

"But..." Raf looked up at the massive Prime. "If the Harvester can extract Energon from anything, and if you all are filled with it..."

"...Starscream would use it as a weapon." Jack crossed his arms, an expression that was half irritation and half concern crossing his face. "He could use it to suck the Energon right out of you."

"Like a portable vampire!" Miko shrieked, bouncing in the air. "Cool!"

"It would be catastrophic, Miko, not 'cool'," Ratchet snapped.

"Precisely." Optimus turned, addressing his team. "Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, you will accompany me. The rest of you -"

"W-Wait." Jack spoke up, leaning his arms against the railing near him. "Optimus, with all due respect, you guys can't just barge into a local museum and retrieve this Harvester thing. I-I mean, I know it was yours, but it _is_ stored in one of our facilities, under _our_ guard. You just taking it would be..."

"Isn't that stealing?" Raf questioned, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "That's illegal."

"Jack, I have no desire to break human laws, but if Starscream were to get his servos on this ancient artifact, the outcomes would be disastrous."

"Then send us in." When he received stares of shock, he raised a hand to rub sheepishly at the back of his head. "I-I mean, we're not twenty foot tall giant robots. We're small enough to sneak in and out without getting caught."

"That is risky," Ratchet pointed out. "We know the Decepticons will be there. Should they see the children..."

"We'll be careful," Jack assured, glancing pointedly at Miko. "We promise." Raf and Miko nodded in aquiescence.

The Prime considered the suggestion for a moment, and he eventually nodded. "Very well. I will allow this. We will be watching should anything happen."

Turning, with a nod to Ratchet to activate the ground bridge, the Prime declared, "Autobots, transform and roll out!"

* * *

**Finally, an Autobot scene! And what's going on with Deathstrike...?**

**Hope you liked! Please tell me if there are any mistakes. I typed this on my phone, so...**

**R&R, pleaze!**


	9. Chapter 9

**This took longer to write than I expected...**

* * *

Breakdown continued watching his scanner, watching for the slightest change in the readings. So far, there was nothing, but they had to acquire the Harvester before the Autobots. He was torn from his thoughts as Deathstrike growled suddenly.

He looked up, thinking that he had worsened. "What is it?"

The pitch-black mech bared his dentia as he turned away, his wings flared. His optics blazed, burning insanely bright in the dim light of the darkening day.

"Deathstrike..."

He cut off as the assassin snarled viciously, his engines roaring in accordance with the thinly veiled warning. He began to circle the paved clearing they were in. The Seeker's wings fell and rose as they picked up numerous signals.

"Deathstrike, what is it?" He approached, subspacing his scanner and opening his built-in ones. There was something out there.

_"Coming."_ The matte black mech hissed. His optics were narrow and blazing, scanning the area.

As if solidifying his statement, the sound of roaring engines filled the area. Vehicles tore around the corner—a small blue motorcycle, a yellow and black muscle car, a large red and blue semi-truck and…a bulky green SUV.

Breakdown's engine growled. There was no doubt he recognized his foe. The rage rose in him, threatening to overwhelm, until he faced Deathstrike.

The Decepticon was trembling, servos clenched into fists. The ferocious scowl on his faceplate exposed razor sharp and extended fangs. The insanity that burned in his optics was enough to snap his companion out of his hateful musings.

"Deathstrike, perhaps you should find cover. They—"

"I _will _have the chance to face and meet my enemies, Breakdown, and _nothing_ you say will stop me from doing so." The assassin's refined armor shifted over his lean frame, flaring slightly, as his wings rose and turned to take in their new arrivals. Breakdown winced ever so slightly as the tremors shaking the other's chassis increased in brutality with the taunt of a new meal hanging within reach.

Breakdown vented, half in worry and half in irritation. He was going to have a _long_ discussion with Starscream later.

"Here." He reached into his subspace and took out a sealed cube of liquefied Energon. Deathstrike froze and snarled viciously, his enhanced olfactory sensors picking up the scent. Breakdown took a step back, shaking his helm. "Easy, Deathstrike. You can have this, but we both know it will only sate you for only a quarter joor. But you have to promise to keep a hold on yourself until I can obtain the lifeblood you need. Understand?"

The assassin bared his lengthening dentia, glaring venomously. Hesitantly, with the faint stain of rising insanity clouding him, the Decepticon nodded.

* * *

"Remember, should you see or hear anything even _remotely_ similar to a Decepticon, you either contact Optimus, Bumblebee, Arcee, or myself. Understood?" Ratchet stared down expectantly at the three kids.

"We know, Ratchet. Anything suspicious, we call you." Jack gave the red and white mech a thumbs up.

"Activating ground bridge." The portal roared to life.

"Should anything happen," Optimus rumbled, stepping forward and looking down on the human children, his aura of authority and strength radiating around him, "We will be outside. Do not hesitate to contact us."

"Will do, OP." Miko grinned, hopping onto the motor-controlled cart Fowler had provided. "Let's go."

* * *

The faint, unmistakable whir of a ground bridge filled the air.

The two Decepticons froze, their attentions torn away from their search. The sunlight glinted off of pitch black and navy armor, outlining the massive frames with light that was considered heavenly...but not with the two it was currently highlighting. It made them all the more hellish.

The taller one snarled, powerful wings flared. The dark red and black gaze blazed with pure insanity.

His companion smirked. Yellow, fiery optics burned with unrestrained amusement.

"Deathstrike..."

A low, sadistic laugh came from the matte black Seeker. "I know." He faced the other, optics blazing intensely.

"They're here."

* * *

"Miko, will you stop fooling around? We need to get the Harvester and get out of here before we're caught!" Jack hissed.

"What, a girl can't look?" the other teen shot back, snapping pictures with her flip phone.

"We both know that you're only 'looking' because you forgot to do -no, _didn't_ do- your history paper, and the only reason you're doing so now is because Bulkhead threatened to not go dune bashing with you," the taller teen retorted as his dark eyes darted throughout the darkened museum. "Any luck, Raf?"

"The Greek statue should be here." The small bespectacled human followed the human-sized scanner that the Autobot medic had given him. Looking up, his large, childlike eyes gleamed in the moonlight that illuminated them. "It's just around this..."

"Raf?" The tall, dark-haired teen stopped his bickering with Miko, turning to face the twelve-year-old. "What's wrong?"

"Guys..." He pointed to something through the clear glass window. Both teen rushed over to see it.

Standing alarmingly close to the museum were two large mechs that easily towered over the building they were currently in. One was taller than the other, with matte black armor and large, powerful wings that were batting the air in an uneven rhythm. In the dim light, his dark red and black optics blazed with a hellish light. His companion was bulkier, with heavy looking navy blue armor and an orange faceplate. Yellow, pupil less optics burned, a golden pool of sadistic want and revenge. Something about his demeanor stated that the mech was a powerful brute who would not hesitate to destroy a nuisance. The two were speaking to one another; the black mech's scowl exposed huge razor-pointed fangs. They did not seem to notice them.

"Decepticons," Jack hissed. Turning abruptly, he grabbed the arms of his younger teammates and pulled them into the shadows, motioning for them to crouch down. Eyes quickly taking in every object, the massive statue was easily recognizable in the room full of smaller artifacts.

"We need to move. _Now. _Raf, keep watch and tell us if they even glance over here. Miko, you're going to help me get this ridiculously large orb onto the cart? Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Miko grinned mischievously, bringing her arm up in a lazy salute as she followed the taller teen.

They did not notice the deep red glare fixed on them.

* * *

He paced the area, optics roaming and taking in every minuscule detail. The aching fire was tearing at his throat, threatening to overwhelm. Yet all the while, the voice in his helm grew bolder, taunting every thought and move he made.

_Do not lose control. You cannot afford such mistakes at the moment, not with what is so heavily on the line._

_Oh, but just one little mistake will not hurt, do you not think? We have been craving this for so long..._

_There is no point in attacking the enemy in such a way. Secrets are meant to be hidden._

_From your partner as well?_

A rumbling snarl erupted from his chassis as his wings flared violently. The tawny gaze of his partner flickered over to him, and he shifted warily.

_No. **No. **Do **not **lose control. Keep your hold. Too much is at stake._

_Ah, not too much...too **little.** One little taste will not hurt...just a little, not a lot..._

_No._

_Yes._

**_No._**

**_YES._**

The tremors started once more, brutal enough to make his comrade look over at him. No...concern was not desired... _**enough...**_

"Deathstrike?"

The assassin growled, moving away as he shook his helm repeatedly, struggling to keep his inner voice in check.

The internal _**rage **_that boiled deep within. Oh so tempting, just enough...not enough...too little...

"Deathstrike, listen to me." There was no doubt that Breakdown knew what was happening. Yet he had no idea how _enticing _he smelled at the moment...

_**No.**_ _Do **not** develop a taste. It will do no good thing._

_But when have we ever been **good**?_

Wait. What was that? Oh, that smell...oh so delicious...warm flowing Energon...

"Deathstrike..."

No, there was something else. Something...not Cybertronian. His olfactories flared, glossa flicking out to sample the air. Yes, _there..._

"Breakdown." His voice cut off his partner's voiced worries, and the navy blue mech turned to face him fully.

"There is something..." Vents rasping and whirring audibly, the Seeker made his way closer to the building they towered over. Tasting the air again, the mech's engines rumbled as they neared the human facility.

"Sensors aren't picking up anything, Deathstrike." Breakdown subspaced the scanner currently in his servo. "What are you picking up?"

The assassin snarled again, armor shifting. "Not Cybertronian. Organic..." His optics scanned the area once more, checking in every frequency.

Breakdown knew his partner was becoming worse for the wear, but he knew from experience that when Deathstrike had a hunch it was easier to just nod and follow along.

Deathstrike hissed in pain as his leg gave out again; Breakdown was there in an instant to steady him.

"Deathstrike..."

The snarl tore from the mech's trembling chassis as his intense stare fixed on the building, onto an enormous see-through glass window.

"There. The organics are in there."

* * *

**There you go! Thanks to NordicAutobotGirl for the whole inner rage idea! :)**

**You like? R&R, pleaze! Concerns/comments/questions always welcome!**

**Bye!**


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